It is a melancholy "But now" which this chapter
begins with. Adversity is here described as much to the life as
prosperity was in the foregoing chapter, and the height of that did
but increase the depth of this. God sets the one over-against the
other, and so did Job, that his afflictions might appear the more
grievous, and consequently his case the more pitiable. I. He had
lived in great honour, but now he had fallen into disgrace, and was
as much vilified, even by the meanest, as ever he had been
magnified by the greatest; this he insists much on, ver. 1-14. II. He had had much
inward comfort and delight, but now he was a terror and burden to
himself (ver. 15, 16)
and overwhelmed with sorrow, ver.
28-31. III. He had long enjoyed a good state of health,
but now he was sick and in pain, ver. 17-19, 29, 30. IV. Time was
when the secret of God was with him, but now his communication with
heaven was cut off, ver.
20-22. V. He had promised himself a long life, but now
he saw death at the door, ver.
23. One thing he mentions, which aggravated his
affliction, that it surprised him when he looked for peace. But two
things gave him some relief:—1. That his troubles would not
follow him to the grave, ver.
24. 2. That his conscience witnessed for him that, in
his prosperity, he had sympathized with those that were in misery,
ver. 25.

Job's Humbled Condition. (b. c. 1520.)

1 But now they that are younger than I
have me in derision, whose fathers I would have disdained to have
set with the dogs of my flock. 2 Yea, whereto might
the strength of their hands profit me, in whom old age was
perished? 3 For want and famine they were solitary;
fleeing into the wilderness in former time desolate and waste.
4 Who cut up mallows by the bushes, and juniper roots
for their meat. 5 They were driven forth from among
men, (they cried after them as after a thief;)
6 To dwell in the clifts of the valleys, in caves of the
earth, and in the rocks. 7 Among the bushes they
brayed; under the nettles they were gathered together. 8
They were children of fools, yea, children of base men: they
were viler than the earth. 9 And now am I their song, yea, I
am their byword. 10 They abhor me, they flee far from me,
and spare not to spit in my face. 11 Because he hath loosed
my cord, and afflicted me, they have also let loose the bridle
before me. 12 Upon my right hand rise the
youth; they push away my feet, and they raise up against me the
ways of their destruction. 13 They mar my path, they set
forward my calamity, they have no helper. 14 They came
upon me as a wide breaking in of waters: in the
desolation they rolled themselves upon me.

Here Job makes a very large and sad
complaint of the great disgrace he had fallen into, from the height
of honour and reputation, which was exceedingly grievous and
cutting to such an ingenuous spirit as Job's was. Two things he
insists upon as greatly aggravating his affliction:—

I. The meanness of the persons that
affronted him. As it added much to his honour, in the day of his
prosperity, that princes and nobles showed him respect and paid a
deference to him, so it added no less to his disgrace in his
adversity that he was spurned by the footmen, and trampled upon by
those that were not only every way his inferiors, but were the
meanest and most contemptible of all mankind. None can be
represented as more base than those are here represented who
insulted Job, upon all accounts. 1. They were young, younger than
he (v. 1), the
youth (v. 12),
who ought to have behaved themselves respectfully towards him for
his age and gravity. Even the children, in their play, played upon
him, as the children of Bethel upon the prophet, Go up, thou
bald-head. Children soon learn to be scornful when they see
their parents so. 2. They were of a mean extraction. Their fathers
were so very despicable that such a man as Job would have disdained
to take them into the lowest service about his house, as that of
tending the sheep and attending the shepherds with the dogs of his
flock, v. 1. They
were so shabby that they were not fit to be seen among his
servants, so silly that they were not fit to be employed, and so
false that they were not fit to be trusted in the meanest post. Job
here speaks of what he might have done, not of what he did: he was
not of such a spirit as to set any of the children of men with the
dogs of his flock; he knew the dignity of human nature better than
to do so. 3. They and their families were the unprofitable burdens
of the earth, and good for nothing. Job himself, with all his
prudence and patience, could make nothing of them, v. 2. The young were not fit
for labour, they were so lazy, and went about their work so
awkwardly: Whereto might the strength of their hands profit
me? The old were not to be advised with in the smallest
matters, for in them was old age indeed, but their old age was
perished, they were twice children. 4. They were extremely
poor, v. 3. They
were ready to starve, for they would not dig, and to beg they were
ashamed. Had they been brought to necessity by the providence of
God, their neighbours would have sought them out as proper objects
of charity and would have relieved them; but, being brought into
straits by their own slothfulness and wastefulness, nobody was
forward to relieve them. Hence they were forced to flee into the
deserts both for shelter and sustenance, and were put to sorry
shifts indeed, when they cut up mallows by the bushes, and
were glad to eat them, for want of food that was fit for them,
v. 4. See what
hunger will bring men to: one half of the world does not know how
the other half lives; yet those that have abundance ought to think
sometimes of those whose fare is very coarse and who are brought to
a short allowance of that too. But we must own the righteousness of
God, and not think it strange, if slothfulness clothe men with rags
and the idle soul be made to suffer hunger. This beggarly world is
full of the devil's poor. 5. They were very scandalous wicked
people, not only the burdens, but the plagues, of the places where
they lived, arrant scoundrels, the scum of the country: They
were driven forth from among men, v. 5. They were such lying, thieving,
lurking, mischievous people, that the best service the magistrates
could do was to rid the country of them, while the very mob cried
after them as after a thief. Away with such fellows from the
earth; it is not fit they should live. They were lazy and would
not work, and therefore they were exclaimed against as thieves, and
justly; for those that do not earn their own bread by honest labour
do, in effect, steal the bread out of other people's mouths. An
idle fellow is a public nuisance; but it is better to drive such
into a workhouse than, as here, into a wilderness, which will
punish them indeed, but never reform them. They were forced to
dwell in caves of the earth, and they brayed like
asses among the bushes, v. 6, 7. See what is the lot of
those that have the cry of the country, the cry of their own
conscience, against them; they cannot but be in a continual terror
and confusion. They groan among the trees (so Broughton)
and smart among the nettles; they are stung and scratched
there, where they hoped to be sheltered and protected. See what
miseries wicked people bring themselves to in this world; yet this
is nothing to what is in reserve for them in the other world. 8.
They had nothing at all in them to recommend them to any man's
esteem. They were a vile kind; yea, a kind without fame, people
that nobody could give a good word to nor had a good wish for; they
were banished from the earth as being viler than the earth.
One would not think it possible that ever the human nature should
sink so low, and degenerate so far, as it did in these people. When
we thank God that we are men we have reason to thank him that we
are not such men. But such as these were abusive to Job, (1.) In
revenge, because when he was in prosperity and power, like a good
magistrate, he put in execution the laws which were in force
against vagabonds, and rogues, and sturdy beggars, which these base
people now remembered against him. (2.) In triumph over him,
because they thought he had now become like one of them. Isa. xiv. 10, 11. The abjects,
men of mean spirits, insult over the miserable, Ps. xxxv. 15.

II. The greatness of the affronts that were
given him. It cannot be imagined how abusive they were.

1. They made ballads on him, with which
they made themselves and their companions merry (v. 9): I am their song and their
byword. Those have a very base spirit that turn the calamities
of their honest neighbours into a jest, and can sport themselves
with their griefs.

2. They shunned him as a loathsome
spectacle, abhorred him, fled far from him, (v. 10), as an ugly monster or as one
infected. Those that were themselves driven out from among men
would have had him driven out. For,

3. They expressed the greatest scorn and
indignation against him. They spat in his face, or were ready to do
so; they tripped up his heels, pushed away his feet (v. 12), kicked him, either in
wrath, because they hated him, or in sport, to make themselves
merry with him, as they did with their companions at foot-ball. The
best of saints have sometimes received the worst of injuries and
indignities from a spiteful, scornful, wicked world, and must not
think it strange; our Master himself was thus abused.

4. They were very malicious against him,
and not only made a jest of him, but made a prey of him—not only
affronted him, but set themselves to do him all the real mischief
they could devise: They raise up against me the ways of their
destruction; or (as some read it), They cast upon me the
cause of their woe; that is, "They lay the blame of their being
driven out upon me;" and it is common for criminals to hate the
judges and laws by which they are punished. But under this
pretence, (1.) They accused him falsely, and misrepresented his
former conversation, which is here called marring his path.
They reflected upon him as a tyrant and an oppressor because he had
done justice upon them; and perhaps Job's friends grounded their
uncharitable censures of him (ch. xxii. 6, &c.) upon the
unjust and unreasonable clamours of these sorry people; and it was
an instance of their great weakness and inconsideration, for who
can be innocent if the accusations of such persons may be heeded?
(2.) They not only triumphed in his calamity, but set it forward,
and did all they could to add to his miseries and make them more
grievous to him. It is a great sin to forward the calamity of any,
especially of good people. In this they have no helper,
nobody to set them on or to countenance them in it, nobody to bear
them out or to protect them, but they do it of their own accord;
they are fools in other things, but wise enough to do mischief, and
need no help in inventing that. Some read it thus, They hold my
heaviness a profit, though they be never the better. Wicked
people, though they get nothing by the calamities of others, yet
rejoice in them.

5. Those that did him all this mischief
were numerous, unanimous, and violent (v. 14): They came upon me as a
wide breaking in of waters, when the dam is broken; or, "They
came as soldiers into a broad breach which they have made in the
wall of a besieged city, pouring in upon me with the utmost fury;"
and in this they took a pride and a pleasure: They rolled
themselves in the desolation as a man rolls himself in a soft
and easy bed, and they rolled themselves upon him with all the
weight of their malice.

III. All this contempt put upon him was
caused by the troubles he was in (v. 11): "Because he has loosed my
cord, has taken away the honour and power with which I was
girded (ch. xii.
18), has scattered what I had got together and untwisted
all my affairs—because he has afflicted me, therefore they have
let loose the bridle before me," that is, "have given
themselves a liberty to say and do what they please against me."
Those that by Providence are stripped of their honour may expect to
be loaded with contempt by inconsiderate ill-natured people.
"Because he hath loosed his cord" (the original has that
reading also), that is, "because he has taken off his bridle of
restraint from off their malice, they cast away the bridle from
me," that is, "they make no account of my authority, nor stand in
any awe of me." It is owing to the hold God has of the consciences
even of bad men, and the restraints he lays upon them, that we are
not continually thus insulted and abused; and, if at any time we
meet with such ill treatment, we must acknowledge the hand of God
in taking off those restraints, as David did when Shimei cursed
him: So let him curse, for the Lord hath bidden him. Now in
all this, 1. We may see the uncertainty of worldly honour, and
particularly of popular applause, how suddenly a man may fall from
the height of dignity into the depth of disgrace. What little cause
therefore have men to be ambitious or proud of that which may be so
easily lost, and what little confidence is to be put in it! Those
that to-day cry Hosannah may to-morrow cry Crucify.
But there is an honour which comes from God, which if we secure, we
shall find it not thus changeable and loseable. 2. We may see that
it has often been the lot of very wise and good men to be trampled
upon and abused. And, 3. That those who look only at the things
that are seen despise those whom the world frowns upon, though they
are ever so much the favourites of Heaven. Nothing is more grievous
in poverty than that it renders men contemptible. Turba Remi
sequitur fortunam, ut semper odit damnatos—The Roman populace,
faithful to the turns of fortune, still persecute the fallen.
4. We may see in Job a type of Christ, who was thus made a
reproach of men and despised of the people (Ps. xxii. 6; Isa. liii. 3),
and who hid not his face from shame and spitting, but bore the
indignity better than Job did.

Job Complains of His
Affliction. (b. c. 1520.)

15 Terrors are turned upon me: they pursue my
soul as the wind: and my welfare passeth away as a cloud. 16
And now my soul is poured out upon me; the days of affliction have
taken hold upon me. 17 My bones are pierced in me in the
night season: and my sinews take no rest. 18 By the great
force of my disease is my garment changed: it bindeth me
about as the collar of my coat. 19 He hath cast me into the
mire, and I am become like dust and ashes. 20 I cry unto
thee, and thou dost not hear me: I stand up, and thou regardest me
not. 21 Thou art become cruel to me: with thy strong
hand thou opposest thyself against me. 22 Thou liftest me up
to the wind; thou causest me to ride upon it, and dissolvest
my substance. 23 For I know that thou wilt bring me
to death, and to the house appointed for all living.
24 Howbeit he will not stretch out his hand to the
grave, though they cry in his destruction. 25 Did not I weep
for him that was in trouble? was not my soul grieved for the
poor? 26 When I looked for good, then evil came unto
me: and when I waited for light, there came darkness. 27
My bowels boiled, and rested not: the days of affliction prevented
me. 28 I went mourning without the sun: I stood up,
and I cried in the congregation. 29 I am a brother to
dragons, and a companion to owls. 30 My skin is black upon
me, and my bones are burned with heat. 31 My harp also is
turned to mourning, and my organ into the voice of them that
weep.

In this second part of Job's complaint,
which is very bitter, and has a great many sorrowful accents in it,
we may observe a great deal that he complains of and some little
that he comforts himself with.

I. Here is much that he complains of.

1. In general, it was a day of great
affliction and sorrow. (1.) Affliction seized him, and surprised
him. It seized him (v.
16): The days of affliction have taken hold upon me,
have caught me (so some); they have arrested me, as the
bailiff arrests the debtor, claps him on the back, and secures him.
When trouble comes with commission it will take fast hold, and not
lose its hold. It surprised him (v. 27): "The days of affliction
prevented me," that is, "they came upon me without giving me
any previous warning. I did not expect them, nor make any provision
for such an evil day." Observe, He reckons his affliction by days,
which will soon be numbered and finished, and are nothing to the
ages of eternity, 2 Cor. iv.
17. (2.) He was in great sorrow by reason of it. His
bowels boiled with grief, and rested not, v. 27. The sense of his
calamities was continually preying upon his spirits without any
intermission. He went mourning from day to day, always
sighing, always weeping; and such cloud was constantly upon his
mind that he went, in effect, without the sun, v. 28. He had nothing that he
could take any comfort in. He abandoned himself to perpetual
sorrow, as one that, like Jacob, resolved to go to the grave
mourning. He walked out of the sun (so some) in dark shady places,
as melancholy people use to do. If he went into the congregation,
to join with them in solemn worship, instead of standing up calmly
to desire their prayers, he stood up and cried aloud,
through pain of body, or anguish of mind, like one half distracted.
If he appeared in public, to receive visits, when the fit came upon
him he could not contain himself, nor preserve due decorum, but
stood up and shrieked aloud. Thus he was a brother to dragons
and owls (v.
29), both in choosing solitude and retirement, as they
do (Isa. xxxiv. 13), and
in making a fearful hideous noise as they do; his inconsiderate
complaints were fitly compared to their inarticulate ones.

2. The terror and trouble that seized his
soul were the sorest part of his calamity, v. 15, 16. (1.) If he looked
forward, he saw every thing frightful before him: if he endeavoured
to shake off his terrors, they turned furiously upon him: if he
endeavoured to escape from them, they pursued his soul as swiftly
and violently as the wind. He complained, at first, of the
terrors of God setting themselves in array against him,
ch. vi. 4. And still,
which way soever he looked, they turned upon him; which way soever
he fled, they pursued him. My soul (Heb., my principal
one, my princess); the soul is the principal part of the man;
it is our glory; it is every way more excellent than the body, and
therefore that which pursues the soul, and threatens that, should
be most dreaded. (2.) If he looked back, he saw all the good he had
formerly enjoyed removed from him, and nothing left him but the
bitter remembrance of it: My welfare and prosperity pass
away, as suddenly, swiftly, and irrecoverably, as a
cloud. (3.) If he looked within, he found his spirit quite sunk
and unable to bear his infirmity, not only wounded, but poured
out upon him, v.
16. He was not only weak as water, but, in his own
apprehension, lost as water spilt upon the ground. Compare
Ps. xxii. 14, My heart
is melted like wax.

3. His bodily diseases were very grievous;
for, (1.) He was full of pain, piercing pain, pain that went to the
bone, to all his bones, v.
17. It was a sword in his bones, which pierced
him in the night season, when he should have been refreshed
with sleep. His nerves were affected with strong convulsions; his
sinews took no rest. By reason of his pain, he could take no
rest, but sleep departed from his eyes. His bones were burnt
with heat, v.
30. He was in a constant fever, which dried up the
radical moisture and even consumed the marrow in his bones. See how
frail our bodies are, which carry in themselves the seeds of our
own disease and death. (2.) He was full of sores. Some that are
pained in their bones, yet sleep in a whole skin, but, Satan's
commission against Job extending both to his bone and to his flesh,
he spared neither. His skin was black upon him, v. 30. The blood settled, and
the sores suppurated and by degrees scabbed over, which made his
skin look black. Even his garment had its colour changed with the
continual running of his boils, and the soft clothing he used to
wear had now grown so stiff that all his garments were like his
collar, v. 18.
It would be noisome to describe what a condition poor Job was in
for want of clean linen and good attendance, and what filthy rags
all his clothes were. Some think that, among other diseases, Job
was ill of a quinsy or swelling in his throat, and that it was this
which bound him about like a stiff collar. Thus was he cast into
the mire (v.
19), compared to mire (so some); his body looked
more like a heap of dirt than any thing else. Let none be proud of
their clothing nor proud of their cleanness; they know not but some
disease or other may change their garments, and even
throw them into the mire, and make them noisome both to
themselves and others. Instead of sweet smell, there shall be a
stench, Isa. iii. 24.
We are but dust and ashes at the best, and our bodies are vile
bodies; but we are apt to forget it, till God, by some sore
disease, makes us sensibly to feel and own what we are. "I have
become already like that dust and ashes into which I
must shortly be resolved: wherever I go I carry my grave about with
me."

4. That which afflicted him most of all was
that God seemed to be his enemy and to fight against him. It was
he that cast him into the mire (v. 19), and seemed to trample on him
when he had him there. This cut him to the heart more than any
thing else, (1.) That God did not appear for him. He addressed
himself to him, but gained no grant—appealed to him, but gained no
sentence; he was very importunate in his applications, but in vain
(v. 20): "I cry
unto thee, as one in earnest, I stand up, and cry, as
one waiting for an answer, but thou hearest not, thou regardest
not, for any thing I can perceive." If our most fervent prayers
bring not in speedy and sensible returns, we must not think it
strange. Though the seed of Jacob did never seek in vain, yet they
have often thought that they did and that God has not only been
deaf, but angry, at the prayers of his people, Ps. lxxx. 4. (2.) That God did appear against
him. That which he here says of God is one of the worst words that
ever Job spoke (v.
21): Thou hast become cruel to me. Far be it from
the God of mercy and grace that he should be cruel to any (his
compassions fail not), but especially that he should be so to his
own children. Job was unjust and ungrateful when he said so of him:
but harbouring hard thoughts of God was the sin which did, at this
time, most easily beset him. Here, [1.] He thought God fought
against him and stirred up his whole strength to ruin him: With
thy strong hand thou opposest thyself, or art an adversary
against me, and you can find
more about that here on
st-takla.org on other commentaries and
dictionary entries. He had better thoughts of God (ch. xxiii. 6) when he concluded he
would not plead against him with his great power. God has an
absolute sovereignty and an irresistible strength, but he never
uses either the one or the other for the crushing or oppressing of
any. [2.] He thought he insulted over him (v. 22): Thou lifted me up to the
wind, as a feather or the chaff which the wind plays with; so
unequal a match did Job think himself for Omnipotence, and so
unable was he to help himself when he was made to ride, not in
triumph, but in terror, upon the wings of the wind, and the
judgments of God did even dissolve his substance, as a cloud
is dissolved and dispersed by the wind. Man's substance, take him
in his best estate, is nothing before the power of God; it is soon
dissolved.

5. He expected no other now than that God,
by these troubles, would shortly make an end of him: "If I be made
to ride upon the wind, I can count upon no other than to break my
neck shortly;" and he speaks as if God had no other design upon him
than that in all his dealings with him: "I know that thou wilt
bring me, with so much the more terror, to death, though
I might have been brought thither without all this ado, for it is
the house appointed for all living," v. 23. The grave is a house, a
narrow, dark, cold, ill-furnished house, but it will be our
residence, where we shall rest and be safe. It is our long home,
our own home; for it is our mother's lap, and in it we are gathered
to our fathers. It is a house appointed for us by him that has
appointed us the bounds of all our habitations. It is appointed for
all the living. It is the common receptacle, where rich and poor
meet; it is appointed for the general rendezvous. We must all be
brought thither shortly. It is God that brings us to it, for the
keys of death and the grave are in his hand, and we may all know
that, sooner or later, he will bring us thither. It would be well
for us if we would duly consider it. The living know that they
shall die; let us, each of us, know it with application.

6. There were two things that aggravated
his trouble, and made it the less tolerable:—(1.) That it was a
very great disappointment to his expectation (v. 26): "When I looked for
good, for more good, or at least for the continuance of what I
had, then evil came"—such uncertain things are all our
worldly enjoyments, and such a folly is it to feed ourselves with
great expectations from them. Those that wait for light from the
sparks of their creature comforts will be wretchedly disappointed
and will make their bed in the darkness. (2.) That is was a
very great change in his condition (v. 31): "My harp is not only
laid by, and hung upon the willow-trees, but it is turned to
mourning, and my organ into the voice of those that weep." Job,
in his prosperity, had taken the timbrel and harp, and
rejoiced at the sound of the organ, ch. xxi. 12. Notwithstanding his
gravity and grace, he had found time to be cheerful; but now his
tune was altered. Let those therefore that rejoice be as though
they rejoiced not, for they know not how soon their
laughter will be turned into mourning and their joy into
heaviness. Thus we see how much Job complains of; but,

II. Here is something in the midst of all
with which he comforts himself, and it is but a little. 1. He
foresees, with comfort, that death will be the period of all his
calamities (v. 24):
Though God now, with a strong hand, opposed himself against him,
"yet," says he, "he will not stretch out his hand to the
grave." The hand of God's wrath would bring him to death, but
would not follow him beyond death; his soul would be safe and happy
in the world of spirits, his body safe and easy in the dust. Though
men cry in his destruction (though, when they are dying,
there is a great deal of agony and out-cry, many a sigh, and groan,
and complaint), yet in the grave they feel nothing, they fear
nothing, but all is quiet there. "Though in hell, which is called
destruction, they cry, yet not in the grave; and, being
delivered from the second death, the first to me will be an
effectual relief." Therefore he wished he might be hidden in the
grave, ch. xiv.
13. 2. He reflects with comfort upon the concern he
always had for the calamities of others when he was himself at ease
(v. 25): Did not
I weep for him that was in trouble? Some think he herein
complains of God, thinking it very hard that he who had shown mercy
to others should not himself find mercy. I would rather take it as
a quieting consideration to himself; his conscience witnessed for
him that he had always sympathized with persons in misery and done
what he could to help them, and therefore he had reason to expect
that, at length, both God and his friends would pity him. Those who
mourn with them that mourn will bear their own sorrows the better
when it comes to their turn to drink of the bitter cup. Did not
my soul burn for the poor? so some read it, comparing it with
that of St. Paul, 2 Cor. xi.
29, Who is offended, and I burn not? As those who
have been unmerciful and hard-hearted to others may expect to hear
of it from their own consciences, when they are themselves in
trouble, so those who have considered the poor and succoured them
shall have the remembrance thereof to make their bed easy in their
sickness, Ps. xli. 1,
3.